Alzheimers Stories

Alzheimers. That word means “loss” to me. Mom forgot you don’t take things from a store without paying. Forgot my name. Forgot Dad was her husband. Lastly, forgot how to swallow. I grieved the loss of Mom with each stage. So much so that there were no tears left when she finally passed. I had been so very attached to her for as long as I could remember. Needed her close. Feared losing her. “Attached” wasn’t always positiv...

An invisible thief stole from Mom. At first, we didn't notice. A small piece of her life here. Another there. So random were the thefts. Soon, bigger things disappeared. Memories of our friends. My son. Then at last… me. So I reintroduced myself. "I'm Kim, and I love you." Our relationship began anew. I told her stories of my life. Showed her pictures too. I learned about her new self, the things she liked to do. We color...